


He was there for me...

by Kajune



Series: Michael and Lucifer, Brothers [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherhood, Gen, Hurt Lucifer, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Lucifer Needs a Hug, Lucifer's Cage, One Shot, POV Lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 15:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6615634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kajune/pseuds/Kajune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...when I was young, and then he wasn't, but now he is again. My brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He was there for me...

Life was...different, back then.

Back then there wasn't much of anything around that exists today. In terms of life form, only two angels had been created by that point in time.

He remembers, quite clearly, his early years of life as a powerful celestial being. Even then he had the power to rip apart worlds and annihilate entire species, but all of it was locked away inside him. Until he matured, he was merely a small fledglings.

And small fledgings were easy prey.

There wasn't much to fear back then. No army of sword-wielding angels. No humans with their tanks and explosives. No sadistic demons lusting for blood. None of these existed to strike fear into the young fledgling.

He still feared, regardless, but not of company.

He feared loneliness.

Lucifer remembers running. Running because he still wasn't accustomed to flying and he still liked the feeling of his tiny feet touching something solid. His wings were beautiful, he couldn't deny that fact, but they were scary and he was, for a time, too afraid to use them.

He dashed across oceans of stars and galaxies, didn't tire until he found what he was looking for.

What he needed.

Even after the object appeared before him, he did not slow down.

The tiny body slammed itself into his older brother Michael, and trembled with exhaustion and terror.

Michael did not complain.

"Big brother...!"

Lucifer cried, both happy and relieved to finally find his brother again.

Within Michael's arms, he felt warm, he felt safe, and he felt loved. Michael's whispers helped to boost these wonderful sensations.

"I'm here, Lucifer. I won't leave you. I'm never leaving you. I love you. I promise I will protect you."

Michael's voice was always gentle, reassuring. Lucifer could never resist to curl into the warmth that was his brother, a bigger and larger angel forever there to welcome him. At this time, Lucifer trusted every word that came from Michael's mouth. His trust, was greater for his brother than it was for their Father.

It did not waver even after hundreds of other angels followed them, becoming Lucifer's younger siblings. Lucifer honored Michael to the point of reverence, giving his heart to his caring older brother.

Until that fateful day.

* * *

 

Lucifer stirs from his trance. He once again got tired from harassing Adam and ended up dozing off, for the two hundredth time. It's rare for him to see anything but darkness once he shuts his eyes and lets his rage cool off, lets his lust for vengeance drain away.

If there was a time he thought he'd see as part of a dream, his childhood was not one of them.

Looking over to one corner of the cage, he can still see Adam, torn and shredded and beyond recognition. It's that time again when he has to wait before he can be assured of any pleasure in torturing the poor soul. Recovery is automatic, but rather slow.

Lucifer turns to look over towards the other occupant of the cage; his brother. Sitting there, in another corner, is Michael, curled up into a ball. He's recovered from the last time Lucifer lashed out at him, furious and resentful and still bitter over the betrayal and unyielding love Michael has for their Father, but seemingly not for him.

Looking carefully, he can see some of the cuts and bruises he left missing, and mostly just the blood remains. This implies that Lucifer had passed out for more than just a short while. He's never been one to enjoy wasting time, but it's thanks to that dream that Lucifer is tempted to go near his brother again.

He rises to his feet, and takes even steps over to the tattered figure.

Centuries ago, Michael was the very image of a brave and fierce warrior, the symbol of righteousness with his flaming sword and mighty wings. Now, after much time as a resident of Hell, and a victim of merciless torture, he has been reduced to a little more than a broken doll.

The only semblance of the older brother who once raised Lucifer, remains in the archangel's sense of loyalty and his stubbornness. He continues to have faith in God, and barely utters an apology for his mistakes, no matter how many there are.

It's a sickening sight, especially for one who knows just how magnificent this being once was, yet Lucifer is unable to feel sorry for the change, as he finds at least half of it deserving. In his youth, Lucifer had outpoured all his love and devotion onto Michael, granting some to their Father as they grew older, but always, was Lucifer's heart placed with Michael.

Until he became the receiver of the flaming sword's sharp end.

Michael does not move, maybe a tiny flinch when he sees Lucifer come closer, but otherwise he is motionless. Brushing his hand through the hair, Lucifer bemoans slightly how it's gone from golden to scarlet, with a few shades of black from where the blood has dried.

Dragging his fingers down, Lucifer makes contact with the side of Michael's face. Michael blinks, slowly, as if afraid to provoke his brother again. Lucifer reaches for one of Michael's folded arms and pulls, almost enough to yank Michael's entire form away from the semi-dark corner.

Michael doesn't resist, and Lucifer doesn't mind.

A memory of how he used to tightly grab Michael's left arm during times of panic attacks flashes before Lucifer's eyes. A vice grip it often was, and most of the time, Michael would laugh at the display, but accept his little brother's presence.

For so long, Lucifer had someone to protect him, no matter what the danger was. And for even longer, Lucifer had no one to protect him, even from the cold.

Michael is still warmer than he is. Sam and Adam are also both warm to the touch.

The feeling tempts him, to do the unusual.

Lucifer crouches down until he's pressed against Michael's side, and drapes the arm around himself. It feels nice, very nice to be here. Lucifer chooses not to protest when fingers curl around his shoulder and pull him tightly against the warmer body.

"A-Are you...cold?"

It's an unexpected question, though regardless of the eyes watching him from the other side, Lucifer does not feel his pride suffer by giving his older brother a nod.

Very carefully, another arm comes round to cradle Lucifer.

Neither of them say anything after that. They just sit there, pressed against one another, the same way they used to do so many times before. Lucifer enjoys the comfort, even if he still doesn't forgive Michael. What's running through Michael's head as he finally has his brother in his arms is unknown.

What is clear is that Michael is using a lot of effort to provide Lucifer with every ounce of warmth he can produce.

It makes the thought of walking away and resuming his torturing very undesirable.

He can hardly think up a way to hurt his fellow cellmates, this spot is just so nice.

Maybe, by some miracle, Michael does regret his actions.

Maybe, he too, wishes things were different.

Only Adam sees the tear that rolls down Lucifer's face.

Maybe, Lucifer will stop the torture.

...from now on.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> An update of a story I wrote back in December 2015. I hope you all enjoyed~


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